Perhaps He'll Die
by Pico the Great
Summary: Zhao is having an affair with the Fire Lord's daughter. No, really.
1. Chapter 1

PTG: Because even our dear Zhao needs love. Pre-scar, I think you can figure out the time period.

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"It's a pity your brother is such a fool."

Sanako twisted around in her seat, though she recognized the voice. "Zhao, how good to see you here. Or perhaps I should refer to you as 'Captain'?"

"Please, Sanako." Zhao's hand gestured at the box reserved for high-ranks and officers. The commoners' seats were filling up, but as of yet no one was in earshot. "Here, at least, you can speak freely."

"Not for long." Sanako turned back around and eyed an officer climbing the stairs toward them. He passed and sat in a higher seat, ignoring them completely. "And Zhao?"

"Yes?"

"Since when have I ever spoken freely?"

Zhao didn't respond, only lounged back in his seat.

"Other than that. Really now," Sanako turned halfway around in her seat, making sure no one was watching. "You need to expect it. Considering my father, I'd know how to guard my words."

"A pity your little brother hasn't learned the same." Sanako gave a delicate sneer, and Zhao paused to admire the gesture. "He really outdid himself this time, didn't he?"

"Yes. He did." Sanako looked around again, then spat a small piece of fire. "Impulsive little fool."

"He doesn't know who he's fighting yet, though, does he?"

Sanako shared Zhao's grin. "No. No he doesn't." She mused. "Perhaps he'll die."

Zhao laughed. "You sound eager." He sat forward, and Sanako looked around again, then leaned over the chair's back. "Don't tell me you have reason to feel that way," Zhao continued. "Or perhaps it's just your normal bloody-mindedness."

"Some of both." Another officer passed on the stairs and she lowered her voice. "Zuko dies, Ozai has no more male heirs. I'm all that's left. My father's getting old, and his temper doesn't help."

"It doesn't," Zhao averred. He glanced over Sanako's shoulder. "The general," he warned, and made to sit back, but Sanako grabbed his sleeve and he paused.

"You," she said. "Do your part. Show your ambition, do what you have to, only don't assume you're the only officer Ozai's watching. Distinguish yourself in his eyes, do you hear me? _Make him watch you._" From anyone else, Zhao would've resented taking orders. He nodded.

"Rise high enough and you might share my throne someday." She turned around, and glared at Iroh as he neared, and only barely contained a grin at Zhao's reply.

"I'd like that."


	2. Csend

PTG: Couple announcements: Uno! The first line was writen for me, and it sparked my inspiration.

Dos: The rating has gone up. Believe me, people, it's not called an affair for nothing.

Tres: Sanako is aka Zula, aka The Evil Girl who was watching at Zuko's burning.

Four: the title is hungarian for "silence."

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**Csend**

"Perhaps in the future," she said, wafting a fan against her throat and watching from the silk of her bed as he paced the room in shadows, "you would do well to remember it is I who possesses the future of the throne, and you who serves the possessor."

Zhao did not have difficulty maintaining his glare. She _would_ act like this, and now of all times. He walked over to windowsill and shunted the curtain out of the way: the sea was calm, with only an orange horizon moon and its reflection breaking the dark.

"Perhaps we ought to change the subject?" Sanako raised her eyebrows and let the fan fall. She waited for him to nod before adding, "To the question of what would happen if you were found in my room?"

Zhao suddenly found it that much easier to keep glaring. He knew, as did she, that though there were locks in this wing of the Fire Palace, there were also guards. One noise...

Sanako smirked, and Zhao put a hand over his face. Of course. "When did you dismiss them?"

"Oh, hours ago." Sanako twisted til she was comfortable on her side, swiping the fan off the bed to clatter on the floor. She fingered the knot on the cloth-of-gold sash keeping her robe closed. "I told them the servant Mei was coming to play me music and I was not to be bothered, and I told the servant Mei that I was having my monthlies and I was not to be bothered." The knot loosened.

Zhao tried to remember caution and glanced back out. The guards out on the wall were far below: they wouldn't notice a thing. "And they're not going to return?"

"Tonight? No." Sanako undid the knot entirely and sat up, draping the sash over one arm to admire the gold on her skin. She looked up at Zhao without raising her head, the dropped the sash and leaned back down, and the robe fell open.

"Forget the guards. They're gone." Sanako leaned her head onto her bare arm. "And when I ascend the throne? It won't matter if they know or not."

"Yes." Zhao nodded once, and let the curtain fall.


	3. The Death of the Father

The throne was hers, and hers alone; he knelt behind it, but the two were alone on the dais as the body was brought up on the gold-engraved litter, blacked-over by a shroud before the ceremony. She probably would've added a comment or three of her own, had this not been her father's funeral, and probably still would have, had she not been sitting.

She parted the fire-screen as the bearers stopped before her; then, throwing her hands wide, she banished the screen altogether. The people stared - the Fire Lady had grown, perhaps, too bold? She didn't care, and ignored the steps down from the dais, jumping down lightly instead and stepping to the head of the litter. The bearers fell to their knees and bowed from there.

Fire Lady Zula lifted the shroud from her father's face, then dropped it again. _Old._

She vaulted back up onto the dais, and back around the throne. The people watched as the Fire Lady grabbed the great flag hanging behind the throne and ripped down, nail-heads and connecting-rings flying; the flag fell into her hands likeit weighed nothing.

Zula shouldered the cloth and returned to the litter. Starting from the feet, she pulled the cloth over, flourishing as she reached the face that no one could see her disgust. Some of the rings were still attached; she sent a line of flame down the flag's edge and fixed that problem.

Back onto the dais, and standing before the throne, and now she lifted her face to her people and spoke.

"Jin Zhao, Admiral of the Fleet: rise and speak."

Her Admiral stood and came around the front of the dais; bowed to her and stood again. "Sons and daughters of our nation. The Fire Lord is dead. Whether it was an enemy or some... traitor-" the word was spat, and the people's faces took to the thought, "-is not known. No trace could be found. No one was caught. And from this we must move on. The Fire Lady stands behind me, and ascends her throne before me. Before you. Before the world."

And in the last moment before she did, she caught his eyes.

The look on the Fire Lady's face was attibuted to patriotic triumph.


End file.
